Repeat
by Whatiswriting
Summary: The War is over, leaving nothing but a scar and an ugly memory on minds of those, who survived. The Cybertron is, as many would say, a Paradise, a dream come true. However, when a young mech bears witness to something he should have never seen, the illusion of a perfect world begins to shatter, uncovering the truth it was meant to hide.


**Reality and Fiction- Part 1**

Iacon is a beautiful place. At first glance, it is immediately clear that it is the home to the upper class mecha; tall, gold painted buildings, their smooth surface broken only be wide windows- some clear, while others carefully put together from small pieces of glass, each different color and size, thus creating a view of their own. One of those buildings was the Archive of New Iacon. Imposing, with several small towers- more for the pleasing, majestic look than any real purpose- it towered over the surrounding buildings. If one would be to look at it directly from the small square in front of the building, the large two-winged entrance door alone, big enough to fit a smaller Combiner, would capture the observer's attention.

Behind the door, the library section of the Archive begins. Tall shelves, filled to the brim with Datapads, reaching up to the ceiling high above, like giant, seemingly endless pillars. The Archive contained records from every section- History, Medicine, Politics, Myths and Legends and maps, describing not only other planets, but even whole planetary systems. For those who were interested in reading, the Archive could be, as humans would describe it, "A heaven". Mechs and Femmes from all occupations and places came to visit the Archive on a daily basis.

However, this was only a part of the enormous building, as, above the Main Streets level, three more floors were located. These were filled with offices and, more importantly, were closed to the public, with only a few exceptions made for Senate mecha and other important 'Bots- and even then, one would first need to obtain a permission from the Council.

The offices were used by clerks and Archivists, whose job it was to record, inspect and categorize every item, Datapad, communication and broadcast they could find.

And, in one of such offices, a blue mech sat at a table, one servo holding his helm up, tired optics scanning the blue and white screen on the wall.

The 'Bot reset his optics a few times, looking slightly tired. Just as he was about to lean in and continue his work, the screen before him went black for a second, before the wall of Neocybex he had been reading, flickered, and was replaced by static. This did not last long however, as mere seconds later, a live feed began broadcasting on the screen, alerting the tired mech.

_.:Fellow Cybertronians! In the name of the whole Council, I, Zeta, would like to inform you that this day is special. We are sure that many of you are already aware of the fact that, at this very solar cycle, it has been exactly 1 000 stellar cycles since the end of the Great War! Therefore-:._

Panic now clear in his optics, Optronix shot forward at a speed that would put any Velocitronian to shame, frantically slamming one of his black digits onto the keyboard.

After a few seconds, the live-feed disappeared, the screen returning back to the desktop. That is, with several of the opened files missing.

Turning off the holo-projector, the 'Bot ex-vented loudly, annoyance and frustration clearly showing on his faceplates. He leaned forward in his chair, tapping one of the buttons on the command console several times before rubbing his faceplate in his servos. Of _course _the Council would do it again.

He looked back at the holo-projector in front of him, which stared back, it's empty screen- which was supposed to show the data he had been collecting for the past six groons- reflecting the glow of Optronix's optics. Realizing that there was nothing he could do to retrieve the lost data, the young data clerk soon found himself cursing the Council.

His cobalt blue optics set on the ceiling above him, but ultimately focused at nothing, Optronix' s processor soon wandered off into what little he had heard of Zeta's- or, rather, of the Council' s- announcement. If he remembered correctly, Zeta had been one of the few politicians who survived the Great War. From what he had read, he knew that Zeta was a senator in a city named Praxus- a once beautiful place, now reduced to nothing but a wasteland. Optronix had always wanted to go there. He had heard stories about it, and, from the few recordings and photos he had been able to obtain, he could make at least a vague picture of how it had once looked.

Off-lining his optics, he focused on the city he had always dreamed of visiting. Everything, from the brightly lit main streets to the dark alleys, from the tall, intimidating buildings to the deep shafts that stretched out across the city's area, deep under the highways, like a whole another world. Bright, yellow and blue lights that kept the roads safe from the darkness of an off-cycle, mixed in with the colorful signs and pictures of street shops, bars and workshops, which were- seemingly at random, without much of a though- arranged across the layered streets. Mecha walking here and there, minding their own business, filling the majestic place with life, as if the city itself was one living organism.

_It must've been beautiful back then,_ thought the young clerk.

But, as with many other places, he knew he would _never_ witness it's beauty. Praxus had been destroyed early on in the War, and, for someone like Optronix, who had been born _after_ the war ended, it remained an unreachable dream- merely a memory stored in recordings, showing but a _fraction_ of what it once was.

Optronix had been a part of the first generation of new mecha to emerge from the Well, shortly after it had been restored. At the time, Cybertron was- and still partially remained- a barren wasteland, nothing but the remains of what once was a planet buzzing with life. Optronix vaguely remembered the first few cycles of his life, right after he had been created. He was nothing but a mere protoform back then, still with no alternate mode. He remembered walking across the plains which surrounded the Well, wonder and sadness mixed in his spark at the sight of the destruction al around him.

A sudden beeping sound threw Optronix out of his thoughts back to reality. Looking down at the screen in front of him, he saw that it was an alert; it had been _long_ past his shift. Usually, he would not mind it and stay even long after most of his coworkers had gone, leaving the young clerk alone in the archives- but this time he decided against it. He leaned forward, shutting off the holo-projector. Standing up, he stretched his spinal unit, emitting a loud crack from the whole day he had spent hunched over at the console. He sighed, turning around and opening the door of his office, before walking out. He didn't take more than a few steps when he off-lined his optics and held the bridge of his imaginary nose. Turning back around, the young clerk walked back to his door and proceeded to write several numbers onto a data port on the wall next to it, efficiently locking his office, hoping to avoid anyone going through his files when he was gone. First (and hopefully last, too) time it happened, a few of his notes went missing. He had reported this to his superiors, understandably angry _and _worried. Then again, who wouldn't feel the same when they found their office turned upside down and several of their datapads _missing_.

But, apart from a new access code to his office, nothing happened, and the 'Bot who was responsible had never been caught.

Still thinking about the incident, Optronix subconsciously entered the elevator and pressed the button to the first floor, his mind elsewhere.

Immediately, the lift started moving, the silence being broken by the sound of shifting gears.

Sitting on one of the few still available seats, Optronix looked out of the window opposite to him, the tall buildings behind the glass slowly getting into motion as the train started moving out of the station. It would be a long ride- the Archive was right in the center of Iacon, while his housing unit was near the edge. It would take a groon_ at least_\- in case there weren't any complications on the way, which there probably would be.

A small smile crept onto his dermas at the sight of the Citadel- it had been one of the few buildings which survived the War. Like long ago, it was now the house of the Senate.

The building was different from the rest of the city, though; rather low, and not rounded like the other buildings, it stuck out. Its rectangular shape, along with the two tall towers at both of the back corners gave it a sense of greatness. The gold walls, dim in the off-cycle, reflected only the light of the giant windows, from behind which shone a yellow light.

The Citadel's windows alone were a wonder for Optronix. They depicted some of Cybertron's greatest moments, from the end of the War all the way back to the Age of Primes, which was represented by a majestic mosaic made out of small Energon crystals. The carefully put together pieces created a picture of Prima himself, holding the legendary Matrix of Leadership.

For the young clerk, it truly was astonishing to look at.

Nearly two groons later, Optronix jumped out of the train in a hurry, just as the door shut close, almost scraping his back plating.

Glad to finally be out of the cramped place, the young mech took a deep, tired vent, before turning left and making his way down a set of stairs, which eventually ended on the Main Street level- large highway, surrounded by shops of all kind on both sides. The young clerk turned left once again, his optics flying over the stores on the right side.

It had been long since he'd seen some of the stores open, due to the heavy acid rains that had taken up a large portion of the last two Decacycles.

Optronix was, however, soon thrown out of his thoughts as a sudden cry of pain reached his audio receptors, causing him to jolt.

It didn't take him long to find the source of the noise; next to one of the shops, two Elite-Guard mechs stood, holding what Optronix assumed was the lawbreaker, against the wall of a nearby building. The unfortunate mech was tall, enough to pass as a War-frame. He was very thin, however, which quickly put that assumption away. He seemed to be from pre-war Polihex, judging from his frame type. The mech's door wings twitched- with anger or fear, Optronix could not tell. The most noticeable detail, however, was the symbol on both of his shoulder pads, as well as faceplate. It seemed to show a somehow sad looking face, it's bright red color almost shinning, creating a strong contrast between itself and the mech's primarily white paint-job with green accents.

Next to the odd trio, another Elite-Guard, a blue and black femme with a visor and mouthguard, stood, holding her servo up to her right audio receptor, talking to someone over the comm. link.

,,Understood, sir. Strongarm out." the femme finished, looking at the suspect. ,,Servo-cuff him, guys, we're taking him to the station."

This only served to anger the white and green mech more, though, as his optics narrowed and he began to struggle. He managed to free one of his servos and punched one of the Elite-Guards, all the while his vocal processor let out several very creative curse words.

,,You disgustin'- Get yer servos _off _me! You have no right fer this! It's ya and yer filthy superiors who should be put to a wall and-"

Before he had the chance to finish his rant, electricity shot through his frame and the mech collapsed on his back, unconscious, as the second Elite-Guard sub-spaced his electric blaster, avoiding the disapproving look of both of his colleagues. The femme- Strongarm- looked around, observing the considerably large crowd of spectators who came together to watch the possible crime scene. Mecha slowly began to turn around and leave, probably deciding that there was no point in staying, since it was already over.

Optronix was among them, as he took a few steps back and resumed his walk to his housing unit.

He did not pay much, if not any, attention to his surroundings, still thinking about the event he had just witnessed. He had not been there when it started, when the two opposing factions were nothing but small groups of mecha, desperate to change the world. But he did not need to; he could recognize that symbol anywhere. The mech that had been arrested just moments ago had been an Autobot, which, as most knew, was almost equal to a death sentence. Anyone who had once been a part of the Autobot movement, or was their supporter, had chosen to cut anything that would point that out, or indicate that he was still in contact with others.

And _yet_, this mech was not afraid to show his sympathy. Quite the opposite, actually: he _wanted_ others to know.

Optronix fell on his berth with a heavy ex-vent, his limbs spread out, optics staring at the light gray ceiling above him. He stayed that way for about a few cycles, thinking over the events of the whole astrocycle. Everything, from the morning that he spent running to work, to the bigger portion of the solar cycle spent in the Archives, to his ride home, and, most importantly, the Autobot fanatic. With his thoughts slow and sluggish, only now did he seem to realize how tired he was- the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his frame feeling heavy. With a small sigh, he turned off the lights, letting the whole apartment succumb to the darkness of the off-cycle, which had long ago taken over the whole Iacon.

The clerk turned his helm to the left, staring out the small window for a moment, before off-lining his optics and falling into a deep, peaceful recharge, for the first time in many orns.

** A/N**

**Hello, there, reader!**

**First off, massive thank you for checking this out- it's my first ever story, and any feedback is very much appreciated. Therefore, if you have anything you say, whether it is criticism, support, or anything else, be sure to leave a review, but please, just keep it constructive- if you want to see, how may curse words you're able to fit inside one sentence, don't do it here. I'm still figuring things out around here, and, after the horror that i went through while trying (emphasis on the word 'trying'), I really hope I didn't mess up anything. English isn't my mother language, so... bear with me, please.**

**Second off, this fic will not contain any sexual themes, and there may be a few background pairings. There will, however, be some gore, and possibly mild cursing.**

**And, last but not least: while I have the basic story and the direction I want it to go towards figured out, I'm still working on the rest, and, as such, regular updates... Might present a problem. I'll be sure to let you guys know in the future chapters, when I'll- hopefully, at least- will know what the Hell I'm actually doing.**

**And.. that should be all for now! See you guys in the next chapter!**


End file.
